The Insanity of Nigel Tux: The Return of Madness
by Red Sova
Summary: Years have passed and Red has been living a rather peaceful and successful life as a human named Mr. Red, but what happens when Nigel finally discovers the squirrel-turned-human's location and seeks to drag the villain back into his old life? Will Red be able to escape the Special Agent with a dark obsession for him or will Nigel finally claim the villain as his own?
1. Chapter 1

So Red thought he could run, did he?

Nigel's grip tightened on his glass of whiskey as his emerald eyes darkened dangerously. And here he had thought Red was smarter than that but appearently not.

Still, he had to give the Russian credit for leaving England so subility and on such a short notice. Also for being able to hide from him for so long. Nigel probally would have never found the villain had it not been for Bonnie Chang and the newstations report on the World-Renowned Businessman and Inventor, Mr. Red.

America...

A smirk twisted onto Nigel's lips as he chuckled softly.

"Sorry ladies, I'm afraid he's no longer on the market."

* * *

Red had to admit, he was enjoying his human life as Mr. Red. He had everything he could ever possible want. Well, almost...

Red's gaze locked on his Sectary, who happened to be bringing in his morning coffee: Susan Congreve.

They had met solely by a chance of Fate to be honest. Red had been testing an invention, when it had exploded in his face. Once the smoke cleared, Red had discovered something that had almost caused him to have Heart Failure. He, The Red Squirrel, who was famous for his hatred for Humankind was suddenly a human. A very naked human at that. And who esle would find him but a lovely female with fire red hair and a matching attitude?

After a few weeks and the hospital and being diagnosed with Amnesia, Red was sent home with the lovley Susuan Congreve. Part of him felt a bit guilty for not telling her that the diagnostic was wrong and that he still had his memories but he doubted anyone would believe him even if he told the truth and would rather not end up in a padded cell with a nice white coat, so he kept the truth to himself and let her believe what the Doctors had told her. Not long after Red started living with Susan he started his own business that rapidly rose through the market. He hired Susan as his Sectary for the sole reason of keeping her close, it also helped that she knew how to do the job perfectly.

"One Cappuccino with a Double shot of Exprso."

Susan's silky voice drew Red form his thoughts. He smled warmly as he accepted the glass and was rewarded with one of Susan's warm, bright smiles.

"Thank you, Susan."

"You're welcome, Red."

For once, Red felt as if his life was perfect.

* * *

Nigel stepped off the jet with his ever so friendly smile in place as he took in the building surrounding area. So this was were Red decided to hid himself...

Clever. He never would have thought to look in such a crowded city for Red, the Russian had always preferred the peaceful quietness and hated humans more than anything- except him. Still it made sense for Red to hide here, no one would look at the successful human, Mr. Red, and think he was The Red Squirrel. Hide a tree in a forest after all, what was one human among thousands?

Nigel smirked as he walked towards his car. Still, he wasn't most people and knew better then anyone on how Red thought. No one would suspect The Red Squirrel to play Human, but that would also work in Nigel's favor, as Red would never expect him to play along. Glancing into his rearview mirror, Nigel smirked at the young white hair, emerald eyed man who stared back .

Let the Game Begin.


	2. Chapter 2

Red nervously glanced at his watch as he waited patiently waited for Susan to show. He had offered to pick her up but she had insisted on him meeting her here around four.

Right now, it was four on the dot so she should be arriving soon. Usually, under normal cicumstances, Red wouldn't be so nervous but this wasn't a normal circumstance. No, this was much more important. This would be his and Susan's offical first date and Red wanted to ensure that it went off without a hitch.

"Red?"

The silky voice instantly had the Russian looking toward it's source as his heart speed up at the sight before him.

* * *

Susan was beautiful...

No Breathtaking...

No, Red could find no words to describe her a they all seemed to pale in comparison to her beauty. It was like trying to use mortal words to describe a Goddess and Red, himself, thought it was an insult to even try. Red was quite aware that he was staring speechlessly, but who could blame him?

Susan was wearing a strapless red dress that went a little bellow her knees, black high heels -but not too high- and a black jacket that hung form her pale shoulders that lacked any buttons to fasten it shut with. Her fire red hair was placed in a high ponytail with a single rose clip holding it in place. Then there was that blinding smile directed straight at him, it felt like the sun itself was smiling at him.

"...Red, are you okay?"

Red blinked as Susan's voice brought him back to reality before smiling softly at her while gently taking her petite hand into his own.

"I've never been better, My Dear.

* * *

So this was Red's office.

Usually people weren't allowed up her but it had been all too easy for Nigel to charm the main floor's Sectary into letting him have a quick look around as long as he promised not to take anything as she didn't want Mr. Red to know that she let him in. Nigel agreed without a moments hesitation. He didn't want Red to know he was there either, not yet at least.

Nigel stood in the room glancing around. It wasn't that bad, a bit plain maybe but it seemed to suit Red perfectly. He had a desk, a few chairs and a couple of potted plants in the room. Three of the walls were decorated with art pieces of pictures of someone place or another with a few bookshelves. The fourth wall had nothing on it as it wasn't even a wall but a wall to wall window that gave Red a perfect view of a few house and then the forest outside. He could see Red sitting in the rolling chair while staring out the window, complicating whatever issue was currently on his mind. He could see the Russian catering to the plants or reading one of the countless books during his free time.

The room may not have had much in it but it was perfect for Red. Nigel smirked, it would also be perfect for his purpose.

* * *

Everything had gone perfectly, much to Red's relief. She had even allowed him to walk her home. If he had been anyone other then himself he probably would be shouting for the world to hear, but he wasn't. So instead of shouting out, Red was grinning ear to ear as he made his way into his office.

He was still grinning as he sat in his rolling chair and swirled it to look out the window.

* * *

Nigel grinned as he stared at his laptop monitor and more importantly, the man on the screen.

Mr. Red.

The Red Squirrel.

Red made a handsome human really. A bit petite but handsome none the less. He was grinning while looking out the wall to wall window, obviously quite pleased about something.

He wasn't the only one. Nigel, himself, was sporting a matching grin.

"I see you."


	3. Chapter 3

Red was a terrible ice skater. He couldn't even stay standing for longer than three minutes without falling on his face, so why was he out here again?

Soft laughter was his answer as Susan skated to him with the grace of a professional and pulled him to his feet. Red could feel his face burning as he almost fell again and no doubt would have if not for Susan.

"I can't do this."

Susan smiled softly as she helped him straighten himself out. Her hand gently squeezing his in assurance.

"Of course you can. You just have to have more faith, Red."

"I do have faith. Faith that I'm going to fall flat on my ass and probably break something while doing it."

Susan giggled as she fixed him with a warm smile.

"Trust me, Red. That's all you have to do."

Slowly, Red nodded and allowed her to pull him further out onto the ice.

* * *

Nigel gritted his teeth as he watched the red hair woman lead Red around the ice, smiling and encouraging the Russian while doing so. Usually it wouldn't have bothered Nigel and he probably could have overlooked it, if not for the small smile and adoring look that Red was supporting.

Nigel clenched his fists as he watched the woman stopped Red from falling by pressing their bodies together and wrapped her arms around the Russian. Neither moved, even as Red was no longer in any risk of falling and Nigel could feel his eyes narrowing as Red slowly wrapped his arms around the woman.

* * *

"There, that's better."

Susan spoke softly as Red wrapped his arms around her and Red couldn't help but agree now that he wasn't in any risk of falling on his face and had her in his arms.

"You planned this, didn't you?"

He accused in a light humorous tone. Susan's answer was a far too innocent look and a childish tone.

"Me? I would never."

For some reason Red didn't believe her in the slightest but he was perfectly fine with that.

* * *

Nigel watched as Red stood outside the woman's home with a soft smile playing on his lips as he and the woman talked about something or another. Nigel had to force himself not to march up to the pouch and drag the Russian away as the woman stood on the tip of her toes and kissed Red, only breaking away out of need for oxygen.

Both Red and the woman were looking embarrassed as they parted but greatly satisfied at the same time. Nigel watched as Red waited into the door was shut and no doubt locked before walking away with a large happy grin in place.

After a moment, Nigel slowly started his car and drove away. Making sure to memorize the woman's address.

* * *

Red hummed softly as he sat in his office chair and begin to work on the never ending stack of paperwork. Usually he dreaded to even see the endless piles of papers waiting for him but right now he was in too good of a mood to allow anything to bring him back down to the Earth. Everything was moving along perfectly with Susan and he could only pray the Fates were kind enough to let it stay that way.


	4. Chapter 4

Susan was having an off day. First she spilled her morning coffee while day dreaming about a certain man in her life and a diamond ring she knew he had bought. Her favorite scarf was had a loose thread and was coming undone so she left it on her counter for the day. Her bike had a flat so she had no choice but to use the car her father had gotten her, despite her multiple protests. Then on her way to work, the car had stalled and then stopped working all together and she had suddenly realized she had left important paperwork at home. She was diffently having a bad day and it wasn't even eight yet.

Thankfully a silver bently wings concerpt 15 pulled up not to long after and its owner offered her a lift to back home and then to work. The owner had a smoothing British accent that could no doubt send chills down your spine, silky white hair and the brightest emerald eyes Susan had ever seen. The Britsih man was no doubt quiet handsome but he wasn't Susan's type, she already had her eyes on a certain Russian, who she knew also had The Ring waiting in his pocket for her.

"By the way I didn't catch your name."

Susan pointed out trying to make small talk. The man smiled warmly at her yet something about that smile was a bit unnerving for Susan.

"Nigel. My name is Nigel."

* * *

Red was worried. Susan was late, it was almost Noon and she had yet to show and wasn't answering her phone. Most probally would have thought her busy and ingored it, but not Red. He knew Susan too well, she always answered her phone and was never late as she couldn't stand being late to anything. Yet she had not shown for work yet and today was susposed to be the day Red finally asked her the important question which involved the thrity carot diamond ring resting in his breast pocket.

A little after one, Susan had skill not shown and Red decided to visit her home in hopes that maybe- just maybe- she was still there and her phone was down or something. When he got there he was greeted by the fimilar police tape covering the lawn and house door. Dread filled the Russian as he tried to find out what exactly was going on.

* * *

Dead. Totured and Murdered. The words echoed in Red's mind as he sat slumped in his office chair, face burried in his hands. He should have known it was too good to be true. He had been living in a fairytale these past few years and now reality had brutally woken him up. He felt numb and barely noticed as the Main Desk Secutary, Sarah, placed a shipping envelope with the adress of Mr. Red on his desk. He was on autopilot when he opened it. His heart stoped as he stared at the ivory white envelope inside with another adress on it in painfully fimilar emerald green cursive writing. The envlope wasn't adressed to Mr. Red, instead it was adressed to:

_The Red Squirrel._

With forced steady hands, Red slowly opened the envelope and with caution dumped the contents onto his desk...

The first thing her reconized was the locket, Susan's locket. She had been wearing it just last night when she left work to head home. The second was a picture of his beautiful Susan, laying on her bed, the sheets stained crimson around her. Her wrists bound, her throat was slit, her skin bruised and her lovely eyes gored out. Red felt sick just looking at the picture. The third was a white card with that same emerald writing on it.

_I'm watching you._


	5. Chapter 5

Red was quite aware of his shaking hands as he reread the three simple words, hoping that he had somehow read them wrong the first time...

Nope the words were still there in that posionous green ink. Silently mocking him with what excatly they meant.

Nigel was here.

Nigel had been watching him for who knows how long.

Nigel had no doubt had seen him with Susan and that was why she was murdered. ...

Oh God, it was his fault Susan was dead. If he had kept his distance then Nigel wouldn't have killed the lovely woman, she would be perfectly healthy and very much alive. She could have lived a happy full life and had the family she always desired, but now thanks to him, she was dead. Stone cold on some slab of metal waiting to be autopsied,if she had not already been and waiting for her next of kin to claim her so she could be buried into the unforgiving Earth. All her dreams and hopes vanishing with her.

But how? Red was certain he would have noticed a Penguin lingering around, watching him, yet he had not seen one. Not even a single black feather. So how was Nigel spying on him and how did he not notice?

Slowly Red's gaze moved around the room before settling on his way to way window and more importantly what he saw. That was it. That was how Nigel was watching him without him noticing.

Red narrowed his lone eye as he firmly glared at his own reflection. It was so obvious now that he thought about it. He had been looking for Penguins, but he should have been looking for was a human.

The question now was: Which one? Which human was he?

* * *

Nigel grinned as he watched Red on his laptop monitor. The Russian's lone eye was narrowed as he glared at his reflection, no doubt that brilliant mind finally catching on to the missing piece of the puzzle Nigel had left for him.

Good.

The game would be no fun if it ended too soon and this would no doubt have Red on constant guard which in turn would slowly wear the Russian out as he searched for enemies he couldn't find. Suspecting everyone and trusting no one.

Slowly, Nigel's grin turned into a smirk. He had won Round One with a single move. Yet Round Two was just now starting and it was Red's turn.

Still, Nigel could wait. He had plenty of time to drawl out this game and slowly lure Red into his trap. The prize would be well worth the wait after all.

* * *

Red glare moved from the window before settling back onto the objects on his desk. Without a second thought he picked up both the photo and short letter before holding them over a lit candle on his desk and watched as they slowly burned into ashes. Finally he turned his attention to the only thing left on his desk:

Susan's locket.

With utter care, as if afraid it would shatter on touch, Red picked up the small piece of jewelry and slipped it into his trademark suit's breast pocket. He wanted to keep the only thing he had left of Susan as close to him as possible and probably would have wore it if not for an old instinct of not letting anything go around his neck.


	6. Chapter 6

Winter came and went all too soon. Snow melted, ice thawled, flowers bloomed as rivers begin to run again and the icy howl of winter's wind changed into the soft muscial chirps of birds returning for Spring. The murder of Susan Congreve remained unsolved, soon joining a multitude of unsolved case files that- in time- became a distant memory to most.

Yet not Red, for him the memory was as fresh as if it had happened just that morning. Unlike others, he couldn't bring himself to forget and the package he got once every month helped insure he never could forget.

The package wasn't much, an ivory enevlope with fimilar green writting adressing it to The Red Squirrel that was always hidden inside the orange shipping enveoples. Inside that envelope was always a letter and a single picture, yet was never the exact same as first one he recieved.

One had shown Susan standing by her bike with a flat tire.

Another had show her sleeping in a car.

Another had shown her bound and awake, her beautiful eyes widened in fear and terror etched on her face.

It was obvious to Red what Nigel was doing.

He was showing him the pictures like a movie, showing what had happened to Susan step by step. The Spy was openly tormenting him, trying to mess with his mind, but Red refused to let Nigel win that game.

Every picture the Russian recieved he burned after glancing at it. At one point he had burned the whole enevlope without even opening it, only to find several pictures sitting on his office desk the next morning with a vioce recorder.

The recording had been of Susan's screams and cries as she was tortured. Red had proceeded to destory his whole office after that in a fit of rage. After that he made sure to view that contants of each envelope before burning them.

* * *

Red heard his office door open but didn't even bother looking up from the his every growing stack of paperwork. It wasn't past Sarah to suddenly enter his office without permisson, wanting to check on him and somethimes force him to get some rest, before heading home. She wasn't no Susan but she did care and for that Red was thankful, even if her constant ordering him around got on his nerves at times.

Still, he could have sworn she was wearing heels today, yet he couldn't hear the soft clicking of high heels on the tile floor. What he did hear was the smooth, British accent admitting from right behind him.

_"Ello, Love. Miss me?"_

In a matter of seconds Red felt his eye widen as his hand grabbed the knife he kept hidden under his papers and spun out of his chair. A hand firmly gripped his wrist, stopping the sharpened blade of the knife centimeters from the older man's chest.

The white hair, emerald eyed man smiled gently as if Red had just tried hugging him instead of killing him.

_"I take that as a 'Yes'"._


	7. Chapter 7

Sarah smiled as she sat back in her chair, quite proud with herself. Finally, Red was going to get better.

It may not have been obvious to most as her boss refused to show any weakness to the outside world, but Red had slowly been losing it since Susan's murder. He was always working, never sleeping and barely eating. That smirk that sent pleasant chills down most woman's spines had all but vanished and he was slowly but surely distancing himself from everyone outside the office. Sarah couldn't help but worry about the man she had come to consider a good friend. Yet she had no idea what to do to help him get better.

At least, not until, Nigel had shown up right before closing hours and reviled himself to be a old childhood friend of Red's.

It seems she wasn't the only one worried about Red and he had offered to talk with the Russian man in hopes of lifting his Spirits and helping him get better. Sarah had instantly agreed. Surely if anyone could bring out the old Red she was used to it would be Nigel.

So she had set up an ingenious plan. Nigel would back right before closing hours while Red was no doubt working himself to the bone again. She would sneak him in and give him to elevator key and password for Red's office. The rest would be up to Nigel and hopefully the British man would be able to bring back the old Red soon.

After all, who else, if not Nigel, could? It was obvious he cared for Red and considered him such a good friend and surely Red felt the same.

Sarah's smile grew as she took a sip of her coffee.

Soon everything would be back to how it should be.

* * *

Red growled lowly as the knife he had previously been holding clattered on the ground in-between his and Nigel's feet.

"Now. Now, Love. Lets keep that in the bedroom. Shall we?"

Red lone eye narrowed as the Nigel smirked, his startling emerald eyes moving over the Russian's figure in amusement.

Red was slim, around 5'9" and a head smaller then the Spy. The Russian's smaller form only helped add to the villain's delicate look causing Nigel to chuckle softly. No matter if it was Squirrel or Human, Red always seemed to have the fragile air to him causing many to underestimate the villain, but Nigel wasn't falling for it. He had learned the hard way that looks could be deceiving, especially when Red was involved.

Which was why he was able to move away just in time to avoid the sharp claw-like nails aimed for his face with only a minor scratch.

Nigel wiped the blood from under his left eye before popping the finger into his mouth enjoying the metallic taste. A slow grin found its way to his face.

He loved it when Red fought against him.

* * *

Red watched as Nigel removed the finger from his mouth, once all the blood was gone and that psychotic grin slowly grew with a feeling of dread. It was only thanks instinct gained from years of fighting the Spy that Red was able to keep up with and avoid the sudden onslaught of hits aimed to his being.

* * *

Red was swift on his feet, Nigel would give him that.

The British Spy narrowed his eyes as his Russian Foe managed to dodge out of his reach but Nigel wasn't one to give up that easy. He pursued after Red, throwing punches and kicks, trying to hit the younger male. Yet Red wasn't making it easy as he dodged under a kick and swiped at Nigel's legs, only for the older man to jump over the Russian's leg and try to grab the younger's leg.

Red wasn't having it as he swiftly pulled his leg back, out of Nigel's reach, causing Nigel to scowl and lunge for the younger.

Red, having expected such a tactic, swiftly dodged to the side.

* * *

_Click._

Red froze as he found himself, unexpectedly staring into the barrel end of a gun. Honestly, he didn't expect Nigel to pull the human weapon out, let alone point it at him.

The Spy stood, holding his bleeding nose, with a scowl marring his bruised face. While he was doing so, Red suitably glanced towards his knife from earlier and his desk. If he could get to the knife he could throw it at Nigel to distract the Spy, then using that direction he'd be able to make it to his desk and more importantly, his own gun strapped underneath the desk drawler.

Unfortunately, Nigel seemed to have picked up on his trail of thought as the Spy narrowed his eyes.

"You so much as twitch and I'll shot you right here and now, Red."

Red scowled as the Spy slowly made his way towards the fallen blade and picked it up before pocketing it, his eyes never once leaving the Russian Villain.


	8. Chapter 8

Red narrowed his lone eye as he watched Nigel pick up the fallen knife before pocketing it, the muzzle of the spy's gun never once straying from the Russian.

His mind was rapidly forming and discarding plans as he tried to find a away out of his current position with little to no luck.

It annoyed Red to no end to know that the bastard had the upper hand, epically since they were within his own office, what should have been the villain's home turf. Glaring, Red stood and straightened out his clothes, bluntly choosing to ignore Nigel's sharpened gaze. It wasn't the smartest thing he could do given the situation but he also knew that if Nigel wanted to shot him, the spy would do so, even if he listened.

If he was going to be shot, Red preferred it to be on his own terms, not cowering like a frightened child.

* * *

Red was a stubborn person, Nigel would give the Russian that, even with a gun pointed at him the villain was defying the spy's orders. It was annoying to no end, but what else did he expect from Red?

* * *

Red scoffed in obvious displeasure as Nigel narrowed his eyes from his spot in Red's chair.

"I said, Come here."

Red rolled his eyes, he had heard the damn Brit the first time, causing Nigel to admit a low growl of annoyance.

"Now Red."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Red glared hatefully at the older man as he begin to walk towards the damn spy, who gained a pleased look at being obeyed.

Red mentally growled, he hated that God Damn look almost as much as he hated the spy it belonged to.

Almost.

* * *

If he was honest, Nigel would admit that he had half expected Red to pull a stunt. The Russian was too stubborn to just give up, even if someone was pointing a gun at him.

He expected Red to try to make a run for it, maybe trigger a trapdoor but what he didn't expect the villain to do was to jump him, as no sane person would dare try jumping anyone with a gun aimed at them.

Yet that's exactly what Red did.

* * *

Red growled lowly as he and Nigel fought tooth and nail for the upper hand.

His growl soon turned into a snarl as Nigel managed to kick the Russian off and went for the gun, that had been thrown to the side during the struggle.

Red wasted no time in jumping to his feet and lunging for the spy, determined not to let the bastard get his hands on the weapon.

* * *

It was quiet and peaceful, relaxing, if you will.

Sarah smiled softly as she slipped on her jacket. It was almost time to head home and she hadn't received a single comm. from Red. She took it as a good sign. A sign that maybe Red was finally on his way to recovery with the help of his friend.

Grabbing her purse, Sarah went to lock up for the night when she heard a loud **_"pop"_ **like noise fill the building.


	9. Chapter 9

Sarah silently made her way towards Red's office with a dreadful filling that something was terribly wrong, though she couldn't figure out exactly what. As she neared the room, the smell of copper filled the air.

It was fresh, that she knew as the smell had not been their earlier this afternoon and that only made the feeling of wrongness worse. Red was a sanitized person with a sharp sense of smell, who could barely stand the smell of most perfumes. Yet the copper-metalic scent was much stronger then any perfume anyone could have possible worn. If she didn't know better she would of sworn the smell was that of blood.

Hesitating monetarily Sarah stopped herself from knocking on the door and instead tried the door, which strangely enough was unlocked. Something Red never allowed, he was a bit pariniod at times and tended to always lock the door wiether he was in or out of the office.

Sarah could feel her sense of dread growing as the door silenlty opened and felt her blood run cold at the sight which greeted her.

The room, usually well organized was a complete and total wreck, broken selves and table, overturned funiture and several very fimilar knives planted within the walls around the room. Yet that was not what held her full attention, no, her attention was focused on the figures a few feet from Red's desk.

Nigel, the man she sent up to talk with Red, was crouch in a growing pool of crimson liquid which was emmitating from another all too fimilar figure:

her boss and close friend,

Red.

* * *

He wasn't moving and pool of precious life liquid seemed to be growing further every second that passed. Sarah watched as the British man, Nigel, sighed softly and carefully reached down to brush crimson hair from Red's face. Sarah felt her breath hitch slightly and not even a second later those crimson stained hands stopped inches from the downed Russian's face.

She barely had time to consider moving, to hide out of sight, before those cruel emerald eyes locked on her and the man slowly stood and faced her, seeming to completely forget about the body only centimeters behind him. For the first time, Sarah noticed the gleaming steel of a gun in the man's hand.

"Now, This won't do."

Unlike before his voice was cold as ice and harder then steel. She stood frozen as he raised the gun, every instinct within her yelling for her to run, to get away, but she couldn't. She felt as if she was paralyzed under those cruel, veracious emeralds.

She could only watch as the Monster disguised as a man, slowly pulled the tiger.

**Bang!**

Sarah could only stare in blank confusion as the bullet hit the wall above her head and moments later the British Monster hit the ground. Her confusion soon evaporated as she noticed the crimson stained hand wrapped firmly around Nigel's ankle.

A sense of relief filled her as she followed the hand back up the arm and to the owners blood stained face, meeting that sole golden eye.

"Run."

The smooth Russian voice ordered and suddenly she found herself able to move again. Without hesitation she found herself running. Except she wasn't running away.

Instead she rushed straight forward towards the two, kicking Nigel firmly in his ribs as he tried to stand-taking joy in the loud cracking sounds that it caused- before helping the wounded Russian to his feet and out of the office door.

* * *

Everything hurt, though Red couldn't bring himself to mind as he leaned against the elevator wall.

He was quiet thankfully that he was still alive and capable of feeling pain at all. Though with Nigel in the building it was only a matter of time really before the British Spy managed to find them again. In which case, Red had little to no doubt he'd be hoping he was dead.

Bluntly ignoring the pain in his chest, Red began to work on a plan to save both his and Sarah's lives but mostly Sarah's. Nigel would make him pray for death, but both Spy and Villain knew Nigel wouldn't purposely kill Red, though Sarah on the other hand didn't have such assurance.

Nigel would probably kill her solely to hurt Red mentally, like he did was Susan. Though Sarah would probably suffer more then Susan had for physically attacking Nigel and being close to the Russian.

The idea alone made Red sick. He needed a plan and preferably before the elevator reached the first floor.


	10. Chapter 10

_Well, that could have gone worse_.

Red thought to himself as he ducked behind the Reception Desk just in time to avoid a bullet to the head.

Nigel was not in a good mood, though if Red was correct that probably had more to do with part of his plan working and Sarah making a clear escape then him mocking the elder man...

Maybe it was a mixture of the two?

Either way it really didn't matter. Sarah was safe and he was pinned behind a desk with the trigger happy Brit across room, not exactly his best moment here but he would have to work with what he was given.

* * *

Nigel knew Red couldn't last much longer, The Russian was bleeding out too much and had no weapons on him besides a couple of throwing knives that the younger always kept hidden somewhere on him.

A part of him just wanted to storm over and drag the younger stubborn man from behind the desk but his rational side knew better. Red may not have many knives left but all he really needed was one and a clear aim for there to be no more Nigel.

Nigel was a lot of things but not a suicidal fool, he had learned from the errors of others and had come up with the safest plan available.

All he really needed to do was wait for blood lost to take hold and keep Red pinned where he was until then. The rest would work itself out. Leaving Nigel to simply just collect the younger while he was in his weakest.

Simple. Short. Easy. Yet satisfying to a degree.

All he had to do was be patient.

* * *

He was screwed.

Red sighed softly in resignation. His mind had come up with and disregarded over two hundred plans yet all of them had ended with him either being shot by the Mad Brit just waiting across the room.

No matter what he did, Nigel would have the upper ground and Red doubted he would be able to trick Nigel into losing it. The elder was mad not stupid, the Brit knew his tricks all too well. Surrendering had briefly appeared in the Russian's mind before he had thrown it out with a vengeance.

He would sooner shot himself then surrender to Nigel, of all people.

Better yet, he would shot Nigel. All he really needed was a gun, any gun really, he wasn't one to be picky. Yet he had none on him leaving only one option left.

To sit there and slowly bleed out until he became vulnerable due to blood lost, which Red was willing to bet his one good eye, was the Spy's plan from the start.

"Damn it."

* * *

"Damn it."

Nigel chuckled softly hearing the anger in the younger's voice. It seemed Red had finally worked out his plan and wasn't too please with it. Unable to help himself the older man took a jab at the younger.

"You know Love, you can always just surrender. I'll even stitch you up."

Of course, he knew the Russian would do no such thing but at least he could say he offered.

"Fuck you!"

Nigel hummed softly as if in thought. A large grin twisting onto his mouth at the thought. It had been some time since he had last been with the younger and the Toys he had could never replace the original.

"Maybe later."

An angry growl come from behind the desk and Nigel could just image the Russian wringing his hands as if strangling someone.

* * *

A low growl escaped Red as he wringed his hands, imaging the air between them was the older man's throat.

Nigel always had a way of getting under his skin and pissing him off.

"Now, now Love. Temper."

That lecturing tone rang clearly in the air causing Red to grit his teeth in annoyance. He'd should Nigel temper when he wrapped his hands around the other's throat and finally managed to strangle the life out of the elder. Then and only then could Nigel lecture him on his temper.

"Come over here and I'll show you temper."

A low chuckle filled the air.

"Tempting but I'm fine where I am. Though you're welcome to come over here and join me."

"Sure, just toss me you're gun first."

He could hear the amusement in the Spy's voice as he spoke.

"I'm not that mad, Red."

"Could have fooled me."

Red mumbled softly to himself but the deep rumbling laughter told him the elder had heard him anyway.


	11. Chapter 11

He was screwed, Red knew that without a doubt.

His body was slowly but surely going numb as shadows danced at the edge of his vision. With a soft sigh the Russian leaned his head back against the desk drawer in resignation.

At this rate he wouldn't have much longer left before he crumpled into the awaiting darkness, and if that happened he might as well just gift wrap himself from the Mad Brit just waiting for his chance.

For a brief moment, Red allowed his eye to drift down to the throwing knife held loosely in his hand. It would be so easy to take the third way out, to spite Nigel in a way he couldn't reverse. A slit throat, if done right, it would be quick and painless. Just one firm movement and he would no longer have to deal with Nigel or anyone else for that matter. The older wouldn't be able to save him if he tried.

When he closed his eyes, Red fount he could actually see the aftermath of such doings:

A deep jagged gash in pale skin showing severed muscles, tissues, a ruined thyroid cartilage torn beyond repair. The spinal cord would just be visible beyond the destruction. A crimson waterfall would run from the wound, staining his clothes and skin while pooling around him. There would be too much damage for anyone to save him, let alone Nigel.

Opening his eyes once more, Red's lone golden eye glanced down at the sharp blade in his hand before utterly dismissing the thought and image from his mind. He would find another, more satisfying way to spite Nigel that did not insult his honor and beliefs.

"You still with me Love?"

Gritting his teeth, Red briefly imaged himself cutting out the older man's voice box and smashing it to bits so he would never have to hear that damn nickname again.

Forcing aside his emotions and old memories trying to surface, Red made himself focus on making a plan. Screwed or not, he refused to just lay down and make it easy for the older.

Slowly a smirk formed on the younger's face, The chances of this working was slim to nothing but he always loved impossible odds.

* * *

Nigel knew Red was becoming desperate but he couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed as the heavy paperweight sailed completely over his head, not even coming close to hitting him.

"Now that's just sad, Love. That didn't even come close to me."  
A mocking wet laugh filled the air.

"Who said I was aiming for you?"

**Crash! **

Nigel's head swiftly turned back to see the paperweight had crashed through one of the doors widows. A second later, the piercing sound of an alarm filled the air. Snarling, the elder's head spun back to where the younger was hidden from view.

There went his plan. He couldn't afford to wait any longer or the proper authorities would show up and the Russian would slip through his fingers.

* * *

The percious life liquid slipped through his fingers as he held them firmly against his chest, trying and failing to stop the bleeding.

Nigel was pissed just as Red suspected he would be once he figured out the Russian's plan. He was desperate to end this soon and Red knew from experience that when the Spy got desperate he became even more dangerous then normal. Tightening his grip on his blade, the younger threw himself to the side as a bullet lodged into the lower wall where he had once been crouched at.

Nigel growled in annoyance as Red used an overturned table for cover. Honestly, the younger should know better then to constantly jar his wounds with such reckless actions. Narrowing his hardened emerald eyes, Nigel swiftly moved for the younger's current shelter. It was time he put a stop to these games before the younger managed to accidently kill himself out of stubbornness.

* * *

Cold fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist, stopping his knife only inches from the emerald jewel that had been its target.

"Enough."

The Spy's voice was hard and commanding but Red never been one for following orders and tried to force his hand forward as his other hand twisted violently in the vice-grip hold trapping it.

**Snap!**

Red forced himself to hold back a wince at the loud noise from his wrist as the bone was broken like fragile glass under the elder's firm hold.

"I told you that was enough."

A part of Red couldn't help but shivered at the Spy's tone. It was soft like silk and seemingly gentle, no doubt it would have put many at ease but not Red. He knew Nigel well enough to hear the icy tone hidden behind the honey sweetness.

"You just couldn't do it the easy way could you Love?"

* * *

The elder tightened his grip on the younger's broken wrists, noticing how the Russian's hold loosened on his blade for a moment before plucking it from the smaller's hand. With a cautious experience he moved the blade between his fingers. It was well crafted, perfectly balanced and sharp enough to strip flesh from bone. Luckily he had caught the blade before the younger had introduced it to his eye.

"Easy has never really been my style."

"No, I suppose it hasn't."

Tightening his hold on the blade, The elder stabbed it down roughly into the Russian's pinned hand causing a low hiss to leave the smaller as his hand was pinned firmly to the ground. Sighing softly, Nigel pinned the other hand firmly under his knee, making sure to keep pressure on the younger's broken wrist, before digging into his jacket pocket.

* * *

The moment Nigel removed the syringe from his pocket the Russian froze, his lone golden eye locked on it with an intensity he usually only saved from working on his new inventions. After a few seconds longer Red sudden bucked violently under the British man, trying to throw the spy off of him. He know what the hell was in that damnable thing nor did he wish to.

Ignoring the younger suddenly struggle, Nigel lightly tapped the side of the syringe making sure no air was trapped inside.

"Good night Love."

Not allowing the smaller time to protest or starting arguing, the emerald eyed man violently stabbed the syringe into the younger's neck, leaning down on the other to keep him still as he pushed the stopper all the way down.

"Sshh, Love. Relax. We'll talk when you wake."

The last thing Red saw was those emerald gems seeming to glow with madness before the darkness claimed him and he knew no more.


	12. Chapter 12

Gripping the knife firmly, Nigel yanked it from the younger's hand before removing a handkerchief from his pocket and trying it firmly around the wound that now marred the russian's small delicate looking hand.

It was a shame he had to add more scars to his beloved but with a person like Red, Nigel knew he needed a firm hand. Red would tear a person apart from their seams if they shown him even the slightest of weakness.

It was what the older man called a _lovely brutality_. Showing weakness around Red, or at least the Red he had known before that bloody woman had sunk her claws into him, was suicide.

Nigel had loved that about Red and then that woman, Congreve had gotten ahold of the russian and made him soft. It had, in all honestly, pissed the british man off. That vile woman had tried to steal from him and had almost succeeded, if the ring he had discovered in Red's office was anything to go by. Luckily he had put a stop to it and had made a fine example of why exactly the younger shouldn't allow others so close to his heart.

Slipping off his coat, Nigel wrapped it around the smaller and held the man to his chest before making his way out the front door. In the distance, the Spy could hear sirens ringing throughout the night, slowly but surely coming closer to the building.

It didn't matter though, carefully holding the younger with one arm, Nigel unlocked the passenger side of his car and eased the Russian into the seat.

Smiling softly, he fixed his jacket to better keep the unconscious man comfortable and buckled him in. Switching the child safety lock on, Nigel shut the door and made his way to the driver's side.

It was time to go.

* * *

The car drive towards his base was filled with an unnatural silence, only the soft faint breathing of his passenger kept Nigel calm enough to keep driving. As long as he could hear those soft strained breathes the silence didn't matter.

"Just a bit longer Love. We're almost there."

Only silence was his answer.

* * *

For as long as Nigel had known Red, he knew the russian was too light but caring down his current base's stairs only proved it. He had carried heavier shopping bags then the rouge hair man. Cautiously he lowered the younger onto his couch before heading to gather the necessary supplies he was going to need.

When he returned, Nigel made sure to take care as he slipped his jacket off the smaller and tossed it to the floor before setting to work on Red's own jacket. It wasn't easy, the drying blood causing the fabric to stick to the Russian but Nigel took his time as he knew the jacket itself was important to the younger.

Through the same couldn't be said for Red's shirt.

The moment it had stubbornly cling to the Russian's skin, Nigel had taken a knife and cut it off. Thankfully he didn't seem to have any issues with the rest of the younger's clothing and therefore set to work on clearing up the areas around the wounds he would have to stitch shut.

It wasn't long after he started did Nigel discover an issue, that honestly shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did:

One of his bullets where still inside the Russian laying on his couch.

Cursing softly, the Spy took a small blade and a set of tweezers from the first aid at his side. With a precision belonging to that of an expert surgeon, Nigel set to work on removing the first of many obstacles.


	13. Chapter 13

Four Bullets.

The British Spy couldn't help but mentally wince as he drops the last one into a dish.

The years and that woman- mostly that woman- had made His Russian slower then normal. Back in the day, before the younger was tainted with that vile creatures touch, only one of those bullets would have hit true-

If he was lucky.

Now, Nigel fount himself with four bullets. **_Four._**

God above, that Congreve Woman had been turning Red soft. The younger was lucky he had came when he did and put a permit stop to her interference- though a part of him had a feeling the younger would not be so thankful and maybe a bit resentful about the woman's termination.

It was all for the best though. The woman had been a Cancer, slowly festering on what was his. Nigel didn't regret getting rid of a Cancer anymore then a human regrets swatting a mosquito.

Red was just going to have to get over it.

Humming softly to himself, the spy proceeded on cleaning and stitching the Russian's wounds shut before wrapping them in a tight bandage.

There was nothing left to do but wait.

* * *

It wasn't very surprising to find that Red was furious upon waking. Honestly, Nigel would have been mildly surprised if the Russian wasn't.

For some reason or another, Red was always angry. Usually though he was better at hiding it and had more self protective instincts then to try to strangle Nigel upon entering the room.

* * *

When Red first woke his head felt as if the Soviet Union had used it for the marching drums. His body was sore and tender, every move he made set his nerves on fire and constantly reminded him of his wounds.

He tried to keep calm, truly he did, but the moment Nigel had entered the room all his efforts went to waste. Red could feel the rage coursing under his skin, simmering through his veins as it demanded retribution for all the pain the Bastard of a Spy had caused him.

His body had acted on instinct, forcing itself to forget the pain and fire within, as it lunged for the older man with full intentions to kill. Honestly it felt good to wrap his hands around the Brit's throat and squeeze as hard as he was able, to hear those breathes strain their way around his fingers.

He wanted to kill the Spy.

To feel the fragile life slip through his fingers. To watch those damn eyes dull and the intelligence fade into nothingness.

He wanted Revenge for all the pain and suffering the emerald eyed man put him though.

He probably would have had it to had something not slammed into the side of his head, blindsiding the Russian man enough for Nigel to knock him away.

He could hear the Spy coughing, no doubt trying to refill his lungs, but Red fount his vision to be that mostly of a blur- Slight concussion caused by his body's current state and the recent blunt force trauma.

* * *

Nigel rubbed his throat as he sat up and glanced to the Mad Russian, noticing how his visible eye was glazed over and seemed unable to focus, before mentally sighing. Honestly he probably could have dealt with that better yet he had not expected the other to attack so openly. He had expected something a little more...

Subtle. Not so suicidal.

Running a hand through his hair in annoyance, Nigel pocketed the steel control box he had previously used to brain the younger man before pushing himself to his feet and glancing down at the Russian, who was already trying to force his vision to clear with no such luck.

Great, now he was going to have to deal with the concussion as well as the younger's previous wounds.

* * *

Red could hear the Spy's grumbling from his bedside as the Russian subtitling tested the cuffs binding his wrist to his sides. As he expected the cuffs where firm and withstanding, tightened to the point where even the smallest of shifts would cause them to tighten even more and dig further into his wrists.

Damn Spy.

Okay, Red really couldn't lay all the blame of his failed murder and now escape on the Brit. A major part of it had been no one's fault but his own. He shouldn't have allowed is anger such control over him. He should have waited and drawled out his time till the perfect opportunity for murder and escape had shown itself.

Mentally the rouge hair man could already hear the Count lecturing him on his foolishness.


	14. Chapter 14

If that bastard ruffled his hair one more time, Red swore he would bite off every single one of the spy's fingers.

Red couldn't stand other people messing with his hair, it was like ruffling his fur and the Russian had always held a distain for anyone who dared tried.

Especially when they rubbed it the wrong way and all of his said hair/fur was sticking straight up.

* * *

"I'm not eating that."  
Red scowled at the supposed 'Soup' in the Mad Brit's hands. Sure he was starving but there was no way in Hell would he eat anything the elder made without being able to watch his every move and since both of them knew it wasn't likely to happen:

Red was officially on a hunger strike.

Annoyance flashed on the Spy's face as he resisted the urge to sit on the Russian and force feed the smaller.

"There is nothing wrong with my cooking."

That lone golden eye glanced at him as if the issue was obvious.

"It's _**your**_ cooking."

* * *

Nigel had little to no doubt Red was purposely trying- and succeeding- to get under his skin.

Why did he have to be so damn stubborn?

Sure Nigel enjoyed it more then he should but times like this it frustrated the British Spy.

Did the younger want to die of starvation that much?

Probably not but the Russian's Pride was only rivaled by Nigel's own and said Spy did not miss the unspoken jab from the younger. Annoyed and with Pride wounded far more then he expected it to be at this point, Nigel purposely dumped the soup onto the younger's head.

That lone eye flared in silent anger as it's owner glared Death at the Spy from under his now soaked and sticky bangs.

* * *

"You're not my Mother."

An annoying smirk came to the Spy's face.

"That's good or I wouldn't be able to do this."

The elder leaned in closer, his hands resting on both sides of the Russian's head, clearly intended to steal a kiss. Yet Red wasn't haven't it and used the Brit's closeness to spit in his face.

Emerald eyes flashed with barely concealed anger as the spy leaned back and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the spit away. Afterwards he tossed it to the side before those eyes bored into Red's.

The younger wasn't all that surprised when he fount himself knocked back with a busted lip a moment later.

* * *

A hand twisted in rouge hair and without waiting for younger to stand Nigel dragged Russian out of the room, too blinded by anger to care whether or not he yanked any of it out.

Cuffed hands reached up and tightly gripped the older man's hands, the best they possible could, as if to pull them off but with little results. Finally the Brit came to a stop outside of a metal door Red had never seen before. Pulling a key from his pocket, Nigel unlocked the door to reveal a small room -No bigger then a closet with no widows or light source.

Scowling, he tossed the younger inside causing the smaller to hit his head on the other wall. The Spy honestly didn't care though. Red was too stubborn for his own damn good and it was time the Russian realized he couldn't get away with everything.

"You can come out when you decide feel more Civil."

Not waiting for a response, the Spy slammed the door shut and placed the lock back on before pocketing the key.

* * *

A golden eye peered through the darkness as it's owner scowled, his hand lightly pressing to his hairline. His scowl grew as he felt liquid smear under his fingertips.

Damn it. That Bastard was going to give him brain damage with the way he constantly slammed things into his head. Or in this case, his head into a wall.

After a moment, the Russian pulled his fingers away to pull his eye patch over his natural eye, seeing no point in straining it by trying to see his hand in front of his face.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Red fount himself grateful for Monsterity that had long ago replaced his other eye. Night Vision was quite useful in a situation like this one after all, even if there was not much to see to began with.

The room was bare and empty with no light penetrating it making it so he barely see the outline of the door Nigel had tossed him through. It was too small to be a closet and they walls where far too smooth to be storage. The only holes in the room, looked man made and where on the ceiling, causing Red to ponder what their purpose was.

Having nothing better to do, the Russian leaned against a wall and stared up at the objects of his attention.

It was quite obviously not for light and there was no logical need for air holes.

Five minutes into his thoughts, Red fount out exactly what they where for as a droplet of water feel onto his face from one of the many. For a moment, the Russian allowed his confusion to show as he raised cuffed hands to his face and wiped the droplet off.

As if by trigger, the floodgates seemed to explode and water started pouring into the sealed off room from the holes in the ceiling.

Cursing lowly, the Russian stood as the water reached his ankles and continued to rise.


	15. Chapter 15

It was offical he hated water.

A shiver ran down the Russain's body as he rubbed his arms roughly to try to warm them. It was a futitle gesture and he knew it but now that the water was finally beganing to lower enough for him to he was willing to take the chance.

Heaven only knew when the spy would attempt to almost drown him again just kicks and giggles.

Once wouldn't have been too bad but everytime the water reached four inches over his head, the water would drain until only a damp room was left. Then it would start all over, either immedately or five minutes later. So far the Mad Brit had 'flooded' both him and the room seven times.

Glaring towards the direction of the corner of the right side of the room, Red's well trained eye could just see the dull glint of a camera lens. Most likely water proof and judging from how he could see no bulk it was probally built into the wall as well.

Another thought quickly followed that one:

Nigel, the fucking bastard, was probally watching it like a child's show.

Deciding there was only one real way to know, Red immedately looked dirrectly at the lense and gave it the bird. Only milseconds later the water stopped mid-drain and began to raise again.

Diffently watching.

* * *

If he was honest, Nigel would admit he was amused as he watched the room fill again with water.

Red had a way of doing that to him, getting under his skin despite Nigel's many attempts to ignore the younger. It just wasn't possible, wither the Russian knew it or not. Nigel was addicted and quite enjoyed tormenting the younger when given a chance.

He also enjoyed the other's spit-fire attitude though he was trying to dull that unbending defiance.

Of course that was easier said then done. Red wasn't the sort of person to bend to the Will of Others, let alone him.

Watching as the water reached the preferred point, Nigel casually reached over and flipped the switch to drain the room. Smiling to himself the Spy leaned back into his chair.

For now he would continue to watch the monitor and keep his 'flooding' on a timely basics. Tomorrow he would allow the Russian to leave the cell room and move back into their room.

* * *

The moment he had the sound of locks clicking open, Red swiftly placed his eye patch back over his artificial eye. Seconds later, he was forced to close his normal eye as blinding light hit him full on.

Light Sensitively was never something Red dealt with well. His eyes were too sharp and at times it was a blessing but other times like now it only caused pain when he looked directly into a strong Light Source. Slowly, so to adjust better, Red opened his eyes a little bit at a time before opening it all the way.

Nigel looked as if he couldn't decided between being smug or amused, before finally settling on a mid way with his usual cocky smirk.

"Pleasant night, Love?"

God he wanted to strangle that bastard.


	16. Chapter 16

He pressed himself frimly against the smaller, hands keeping a tight hold onto the younger's smaller wrists as he leaned in.

A golden pupil dialated as the distance closed and tried futitle to yank his hands away from the elder's firm hold causing the grip, gaining only bruises for his effort.

"Why don't we try this again?"

The Spy asked his voice low and husky with barely conceled desire.

"Nyet," The Russian forced his voice to stay firm while he mentally panicked- he was never one for physical contact, let alone with Nigel, due to his past history- and tried to plot a way out of this, "I'd rather drown."

The elder smiled, "Splendid. It wouldn't be much of a punishment if you enjoyed it."

He tried to get out another protest but it was quickly cut short as the spy's lips crashed hungerily onto his own.

* * *

The Spy could feel the Russian tense as he pressed himself further against the younger as to keep the rouge hair man from being able to slip away or put up too big of a fight.

It felt as though electricity was rushing through him as he eagerly tried to deepen the stolen kiss, but the younger was being stubborn. Purposely keeping his mouth shut for a change and trying to lean further back as if the wall itself would swallow him whole if he leaned just far enough.

A part of him was highly annoyed but he decided to just accept what he could acquire for now. It was a start and much more then he was getting yesterday or the day before. Breaking away he smiled down at the younger who looked as if he had been physically hurt and had a disgusted taste he wanted to gurgle bleach to rid himself of.

Shifting his hold on the youngers arms so that he held both of the Russian's small wrists in one hand, Nigel reached up and bushed several strains of fallen hair back into their original place taking notice of how the younger's pupils were dilated in a way he recognized as Trauma.

And that was another issue with their 'relationship', Red hated pretty much everyone. Especially when it came to physical contact with them. How that damn woman fount a way past that childhood issue was beyond Nigel though he was firmly leaning onto the side of Dark Magic or some sort of Voodoo.

Shame he didn't ask before he had killed her but it was too late to regret that now. He'd work on it and eventually the younger man would adjust.

* * *

Bleach.

He needed Bleach, at least a gallon to gurgle that fish-green mint tea taste from his mouth. Oh God above, he hated the taste of Green Mint Tea. It always left him feeling sick and the fact that damnable Brit was the cause of the taste wasn't helping.

Too last in his thoughts of exactly how he'd like to slowly and painfully skin the elder man and that silvertounge from his mouth, Red hadn't been expected a sudden harsh yank on his wrists which in turn caused him to loose his balance and stumble into the other's chest.

* * *

He wrapped his free arm firmly around the younger's waist more out of instinct then anything else as the smaller stumbled into him. He could feel the soft breath brushing against his neck causing hairs to stand straight on his neck and arms.

"You think to much."

His voice came out a soft whisper as seemed to come out of his self trance.

"Like you're one to talk."

The younger's tone gained its harsh edge as the other tried to push himself away, though Nigel was a bit reluctant to release the smaller. He was comfortable as they were, close and together for a change but it was painfully obvious Red didn't agree.

Slowly he released his hold on the smaller's waist carefully to grab ahold of the chain handing from between the handcuffs, as he had no doubt that if he didn't Red would have taken the chance to make a run for it.

"Come," He ordered heading for the open door, "We need to get you out of those clothes and into something dry before you catch a cold."


	17. Chapter 17

Capture did not mean defeated. Just as Caged did not mean Prisoner.

It just meant he was currently trapped but if he bided his time well an opening would show. Something would fall from place and open a way out, even if it wasn't literally.

For now he was trapped with one of the most psychotic man he knew but it did not mean it would stay that way. The elder would eventually let his guard slip, even if only for a second.

Still Red was patient - it was one of his better traits- he would abide his time and hide his claws.

For now.

And when the time was right, Red would remind the spy of exactly how he acquired his titles and show him how_ 'soft'_ he really was. But not now...

For now he would bare anything the other threw at him and wait patiently for that perfect time that would open the path to his escape from this glided cage.

* * *

If there was one thing the emerald eyed spy hated it was loose ends.

Those always came back to bite you with extreme prejudice and usually brought more issues with them then they were worth. Thankfully the spy had fount he was rather through at cleaning up such ends and messes.

Which was why he was currently making his way down the darkened hallway of what the Human Authorities called a 'Safe House'.

He had a rather big 'Loose End' here in the form of a woman named Sarah Jones. The Secretary really should have just stuck with the plan they had discussed, if she had then maybe he wouldn't have needed to _tidy up_.

Silently the emerald eyed man pushed open the door to the last room on the right. It was a rather bland bedroom with little to nothing within to show any sighs of an owner but that didn't matter to the spy. His sole focus was captivated by the woman sleeping blissfully unaware within the room's only bed.

Finally, after a good two weeks of searching he had fount his final loose end.

With a soft click the door was locked as though sealing the sleeping woman's fate.

* * *

He had been overdosed into a delusional state, of that the Russian man was quite certain.

Well either that or he had suddenly- and rather abruptly acquired the ability to speak to the dead- Why else would a person he knew very well was dead currently be ordering him about?

"That's it," What felt to be ice but was rather the other's hand firmly gripped the rouge shoulder as he sway on his feet- finding it difficult to keep his balance with the world constantly spinning like a rollercoaster, "Just let me led you and I'll get you out of here."

A soft snort left the rouge as his lone golden eye locked onto a face that was identical to his own- minus the earthy brown color of the other's eyes.

"You couldn't led your way out of a box."

The words slurred their way out before the Russian could apply a filter to stop himself- even if it was a proven fact- but instead of getting angry the other just grinned at him.

"Good thing we're not in a box then."

God. Even as a hallucination his brother would never change.

* * *

Despite what many of his follow Agents assumed playing human was probably one of Buck Rockgut's favorite pastimes.

It was relaxing and smoothing then there was the plus side that the rest of the Agency was searching for a villain that he, himself, had already located.

How no one else seemed to realize Mr. Red and The Red Squirrel was one in the same was far beyond him- especially seeing as they had used the Squirrel's blueprints to build the machine that turned them human or back into theirselves. He knew he should probably arrest the man but seeing as the younger had yet to do anything warranting such an action the American had chosen to just watch his _Once Lover_ from a distance.

For once everything had been going right for the rouge, who now seemed to have everything he ever could have wanted; Money, Power, Friends, and a woman the Russian fully intended to marry before retiring from his old life.

Unfortunately the Fates seemed to have another idea for only days after Rockgut had helped the smaller pick that perfect ring, the woman it was intended for had been murdered.

A couple of months later, Mr. Red had been publically announce- to their Agency at least- to have been kidnapped by _'terrorist'._ Rockgut wasn't buying it, no terrorist- human or animal- was stupid enough to actually go after the Russian. There was something more going on here.

Something that he had felt undoubtfully proven correct when he arrived to his Human home two weeks later to find a rather ragged and overdosed Russian collapsed onto his living room couch having a rather detailed conversation with the thin air next to him.


	18. Chapter 18

Gods above it felt as though someone had driven a nine inch nail though his skull before running him over with a damn marching band while riding one of them God Damned roller coasters- you know the swirly twirly ones children seemed to love so much that spun and spat you around till you were wearing your insides on the outside?

And to make matters worst, the first face his mind had noticed upon stablizing was fucking Rockgut!

Of all the places he could have gone...

Why the hell did it have to be Rockgut?- What had the American heard during his unstable moments? What had he said? Honestly the rouge wasn't quite sure- nor was he sure he wanted to know- all he truly knew was he would never going to be able to live this down.

Honestly, what had he been thinking?

* * *

Gone.

Empty.

Missing.

God Fucking Damn It! The Damn Bastard of a Russian, every time he played nice the rouge always managed to throw it in his face. He should have just outright crippled the younger- maybe cut off a leg or gore out those eyes...

No he was too found of those to do that. Still there were other ways to disable a person's sight.

He should have known better then to leave the smaller alone, even drugged three ways to Sunday the rouge had a tendency of getting out of whatever plans he held. Still The Spy highly doubted the younger could have gone far. Then again Red loved throwing him from loops and leaving puzzling questions behind like: How in the Seven Hells did a man, who couldn't even stand straight, walk out of here without trigger even one of his alarms or traps...

It was almost as if the younger had help but that was impossible. No one knew about this place but him. Just as only that woman knew he had Red but she was no real threat anymore. He had personally taken care of that little issue.

Despite the part of him that raged about his escaped captive and what he would do once he got his hands on the rouge, Nigel couldn't help but be pleased the smaller had managed to escape.

The game wouldn't be as fun if Red just gave up without a fight. Nor would it be any fun for either of them- mostly for him- if it ended so soon.

* * *

It wasn't over, he knew that and he knew it well.

Nigel, while being completely unhinged; was a stubborn abominable bastard when he wanted something.

He wasn't the sort to stop give up, the spy was a fighter and would all too eagerly fight until he either completely possessed the object or tore it apart by the very fabrics of its being. In both cases the object tended to end up a broken shadow of its former self while in others the object would completely shatter.

The aftermath was never quite something one could forget- even if they wanted to- especially when that object was a person. All you had to do was take a look at the spy's younger sister to know that.

The moment she was able to the young broken teenager had ran for it and never once looked back- not that the rouge could blame her there. Last he had heard she had married a Sam Fishy - Judging from the pictures the rouge had received not all that long before the Mad Brit had fount him- Fishy was actually good for her.

Shame none of the others had bee lucky enough to have their own Sam Fishy to fix what the spy broke but it didn't matter now. They had long since passed away and now he was stuck with the bastard of a spy.

Joy.

**_IF_** he had been born with even an ounce of Luck Rockgut would have just shot him on first sight, unfortunately it seemed luck was not in his favor these days; as it was highly likely Rockgut had _something_ on him- even if the American hadn't outright said it that look in those blood red eyes was more then enough proof- and now he would have to figure out a way to deal with the spy.

* * *

He had honestly never considered the Russian a light weight, Red had always been well capable of drinking him under the table during those moments were they weren't enemies.

Gods how he had missed out.

He would have drunken less and forced more down the rouge's throat if he knew what the younger was like when his mind wasn't plotting. All that lovely, tender blackmail just waiting under the surface...

All those secrets- some good, some hilarious and some he wished he never heard. He would likely hold a few over the rouge's head for some time- though not for every little detail- as one never quite knew when such priceless information would fall into their laps so easily again; if it ever did.

Right now wasn't the time for blackmail though, there was something much more important to discuss with the rouge- wither he wanted to or not.

* * *

Don't get Red wrong, he would have loved to have told Rockgut of his current issue but what good would that do?

The British Man had proven time and time again he would and could take out anyone who got in his way; be it friend or enemy. It didn't seem to matter to the emerald eyed spy, who would all too happily put a bullet into his own partner if the other got in his way.

No matter how much he and Rockgut didn't get along, the Russian wasn't quite willing to throw the American head first into his problems.

If Rockgut died it would be by his hand while doing what they both do best not to a bullet in the back, a poison in a glass or being suffocated in his own bed. The American deserved a bit more then that.

He owed the man that much at least.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong Squirrel."

A bitter glint entered that lone eye as he gave the American his best smirk.

"You can't help me anyway Rockgut."

The American was already risking a bit too much keeping him around, epically seeing where they both stood. If anyone- especially of the flightless bird type- fount out about Rockgut's help the man would lose everything and be considered a traitor to the very cause he dedicated his very life to.

That is, if he wasn't outright killed first- there was a reason he kept his_ involvement_ with the American under wraps and out of sight; for the few sparse years they were together before both parted their own separate ways so many years ago.

* * *

Why did Red never listen to him?

Sure they didn't always see eye to eye and the rouge had a tendency of getting involved in things he shouldn't - which led to a many of arguments- but for once it wasn't the smaller's fault. And yet the smaller was keeping stubbornly silent on what the Hell was going on around here.

It wasn't pride that kept the man silent but something else. Something hidden so deep into that familiar golden eye that it was impossible to tell exactly what it was.

All he really knew was the rouge was emotionally compromised, though that really wasn't that much of a surprise considering the rather gruesome demise of Susan Congreve.

If the Russian wasn't careful though and allowed his emotions to rule his action there was a high chance Red would be the cause of his own self destruction.


	19. Chapter 19

For not the first time in the past week, Buck Rockgut felt like strangling his... guest.

It wasn't that the rouge was in his space, quit the opposite actually. He avoided the American for the most part- quiet well for someone staying in a one bed one bath house- but the rouge managed. He was a good patient, quite and tended to take his treatment without having to be chased all over the block- unlike some Agents he knew of.

The problem with Red was his redundancy to say anything about how exactly he had gotten into such a state of being.

How was he supposed to help the Russian if he didn't know what was wrong and the rouge wouldn't let him?

* * *

If you asked Red it was painful obvious what the American wanted. Subtle had never been Rockgut's specialty but the rouge never paid it much mind before as the other usually meant well but there where some things better left alone.

Sure he could inform Rockgut of everything he wanted to know but then that would only make the rouge eyed Agent another loose end. Did he really wish paint a living target on his off and on lover when he could hopefully deal with the issue himself in enough time?

Did he even have time?

Physcotic or not Nigel was no fool- as much as the rouge loathed to admit it- and would likely track his trail down soon enough- if he hadn't already. If the British 'Gentleman' located him here, Red had a feeling Rockgut wouldn't get much of a chance no matter how little he actually knew.

So would it really matter if he gave Rockgut what he wanted? Keeping the other naïve would do the American no good and likely make him an easier target.

A heavy sigh left the rouge as a lone golden eye glared at the ceiling. One of these days he was going to stop counter producing his own decisions but apparently not today.

* * *

He had always believed the Nancy Cat was Mad but Never quite to this degree. Not to the point of outright insanity.

"How the Hell did no one catch on to this?"

Sure the Nancy Cat was one of Her Majesty's best- and many would likely overlook a good majority of... issues because of that but not this. Someone should have noticed. Someone should have been able to see the signs and sound the alarm- surely the Russian couldn't have been the only person to notice?

So why hadn't they?

"Who says a few didn't?"

The Russian's smooth voice cut through his thoughts drawling his attention to the fact he had spoken his thoughts aloud. It took a moment for the words to actually sink in though.

Someone had noticed? So why hadn't the alarm been sounded to seek the spy help? Unless...

"He knew they knew didn't he?"

For a moment there was silence as that lone golden eye focused with an intensity Rockgut wasn't aware the rouge had.

"I doubt there's much he doesn't know. "

God Fucking Damn It.

* * *

The emerald eyed man pondered to himself as he relaxed into his favorite chair, his mind rapidly going over the possibilities in his head.

He had to locate his runaway preferably before any of the Americans managed to do so but his lovely little Russian was nothing if not resourceful. He could be anywhere and everywhere yet no where at all.

Maybe he should have ignored his own sentimentality and just cut off the other's leg, but then again the elder had a feeling the younger would have still had fount a way to escape even if crippled. Could he really flaw his prize possession for an off chance they may not have even worked?

..No. He would have to find another way.

Maybe call in a few favors while he was at it but first he had to find the younger... Again.

Tsk. They where going to have a few...Words when he got his Russian back. Some lessons just had to be learned the hard way he supposed.

But how to make the lesson stick?

...

...

Hhmm. If he recalled correctly didn't the rouge have a nephew around Private's age that lived here in Central Park?

Fred, wasn't it?


	20. Chapter 20

Fred knew he wasn't the smartest squirrel ever to grace the surface of Mother Earth but despite what others believed he wasn't the stupidest either.

Sure he didn't bluntly advertise his intelligence- maybe once or twice in a Blue Moon- but he had his reasons.

After all, just look at his Father and his Grandparents, all of which had been murdered before their time. Any Kit foolish enough to show a higher mentality then that of a toddler would disappear for a week and be fount dead not long after. Sometimes they didn't even disappear, the whole family would be murder in their own homes.

Soon it became rather clear to every squirrel:

_Smart Squirrels where Dead Squirrels._

And thus began the acts, the attempts to make theirselves appear less and less intelligence with every passing year.

And then there was his Uncle Red.

His uncle... Well his Uncle was a _'special case'_ so to speak. Even he knew the elder was no Saint but he was a good person when he wished to be. His Uncle was just a bit... Broken so to speak.

But things had been getting better and Fred had fount himself beginning to hope- _maybe things would finally get better_\- but now they where once more falling apart.

The woman was dead. His Uncle was missing and Fred had no doubts that someone would soon be coming for him.

Maybe it was time he got out of the country but where would he go? Red was his only family left and while he had connections, none of them extended far enough.

Still if there was one thing Fred had learned from his Uncle, it was to never just roll over and accept things- such as defeat -without even trying to change it.

* * *

There was something about the chase that always sent a thrill up the British Spy's spine- especially when he was chasing a Squirrel.

Sure it wasn't the same red bushy tail he was used to chasing but the Lad- Red's nephew- was much like his Uncle when it came to running; Clever, vindicated and cautious.

Even if the younger didn't even realize why he was running, it was obvious he was running, probably out of a hard driven survival instinct Red had pounded into the younger's thick skull.

Emerald eyes ablaze, the spy all too happily followed.

What could he say?

He loved it when they decided to play hard and fight back- or in this case: Run.

* * *

Private was worried.

Though it wasn't well known, every other day the youngest of the Central Park Unit would usually go out and have tea and breakfast with a young brown squirrel that lived in the nearby park.

Fred was a strange squirrel to anyone who knew him. At first glance he seemed like a brainless idiot- to be blunt- but Private fount he enjoyed the order's company and that Fred wasn't as dumb as he pretended to be. While he sure wasn't the smartest person Private knew he wasn't the dumbest either and he had always held manners almost as tightly as Private himself.

Which was why it was such a surprise that when he arrived for his usual breakfast and tea, the young brown squirrel was no where to be seen.

While many would have assumed the other was out and left for the day, Private wasn't many. Fred always left a notice when he left home saying how long he would be gone, when he would be back and a way to contact him should it be necessary.

Yet there was no notice.

He wasn't quite sure why but the young Brit fount himself reaching for the doorknob, despite knowing Fred always locked it when he left, so when the door creaked open by a slight touch:

Private knew instantly something was wrong.

A fact soon proven when he stepped inside softly calling out the brown squirrel's name only to find the usually tidy home ransacked and precious valuables such as old photo- the only one Fred owned and had personally claimed as his most valuable possession- containing his Father, Mother and Uncle as children shattered upon the floor like yesterdays trash.

He knew then:

Something was dreadfully wrong.


	21. Chapter 21

When Young Naive Private had first rushed home ranting and raving about a 'Fred', Skipper could honestly say he had been utterly clueless until Kowaski had reminded him about the young brown squirrel.

At first he had brushed off the youngest concerns- It was a squirrel after all, for all he knew the younger had rushed about banging his skull into any solid surface he could locate but after hours of listening to the young Penguins beg, Skipper had finally caved and decided to do a little 'Investigation'.

He had expected to find said squirrel with head stuck in a pipe, his tail lodged in his brain or even passed out. What he hadn't expected to find was a ruined home, obvious signs of a fight and stuggle, and no Fred the Squirrel to be seen.

"This was diffentally a kidnapping Boys."

And wasn't that a mystery in itself. Who in their sane mind would kidnap a squirrel? Everyone knew the furred mammals where as dumb as rocks, with the rare execption of The Red Squirrel.

Why would anyone want to kidnap that?

Let alone Fred who picked his brian with his tail and only won a fight against the Lemeur King; Julian out of pure stupidity.

Still...

Kidnaped Fred was. Right out of their own province without any of them being any the wiser. If not for Private's fondness with brown squirrel it was highy unlikely they ever would have noticed.

"Kowalski, Options. Rico, bag the evidence. Private, stand there and look extra cute. "

It was intolerable.

* * *

Keeping his back against the brick wall, the chocolate eyed mammal took a deep breath trying to calm his rapid heartbeat to no avail. It felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest at any moment, not that he could fault it considering his current placement.

Hiding in a dirty ally from a physcotic penguin- with far too many issue to be counted- tended to cause anyone to panic after all.

Still he was so close...

Just a little more- less then half a mile- and he would be safe..

"There you are."

Eyes widening the younger pushed himself away from the wall, spinning on heel to run away from the source of the voice.

_**Bam!**_

For a moment he wasn't quite sure how he ended up on the ground, shattered glass cutting into his body before his mind registered the pain cursing from his lower back.

"Not this time," He could hear the footstep moving in slowly like a predator already certain of the kill, even as he tried to push himself up.

He had to get up. He had to run, but it hurt so much.

Every breath, every slight twitch of his muscles felt like a thousand pin needle where being stabbed through him. And that growing puddle of crimson below him wasn't helping.

Was this what his Uncle felt every time he was shoot and dragged himself home? How did the elder thrive in a life like this?

Gritting his teeth, Fred forced himself to his knees only to look up into a pair of sharp emerald eyes.

"Good Night."

He never even got a chance to scream.

* * *

Missing.

His beloved nephew.

The last reminder of his brother.

Sweet, naïve, innocent Fred.

This had that **_Bastard's_ **name written all over it, of that the rouge was willingly to bet his life on.

_**How dare he?!**_

The rouge could feel the rage building under his skin along with a newly found urge to strangle certain tea drinking bastards with their own intestines.


	22. Chapter 22

He's a bit disappointed the rouge doesn't show within the first three days, if Nigel is honest, but he has a feeling its due to an outside source. Something or someone preventing the Russian from coming himself. Its clever really but it just leaves another mess for him to clean up in the end... Oh well, what was another gravestone among thousands?

For now, he could be patient. He could bide his time until the rouge can running to him.

Kneeling down, the elder smiles gentle.

"If you be a good Lad I may let you out of this room today. "

The glare the younger grants him reminds the spy so much of the Lad's Uncle the emerald eyed elder can't help but chuckle. Who knows in a few more years it may actually seem threatening.

Seven days, twelve futile escape attempts, thirty-six shy of his uncle's personal score. It seems giving the Lad a bit of leash only encourages misbehavior. Its a shame really but the spy half expected it. Some things just had to be kept on a tight leash.

He drags the younger down the hall by his tail, grabbing a leather cat o' nine tails as he goes. A good proper lashing might quell some of the younger's disobedience.

Nine day, whoever has the rouge must be determined to keep the Russian away from him or else the spy is certain Red would have been here for his nephew and the elder's head on a platter by now.

"You're a glutton for punishment, aren't you Lad?"

The spy doubts he'll ever get the smell of blood out of this room.

* * *

Dark.

Everywhere he looked all he could see was the darkness. It swallowed him whole, hidding the monster from his blurred vision.

Pain.

Everything hurt, from the slight lifting of his chest with beath labored breathe down to the smallest twitch of his fingers. Its only thanks to years of built up tolerance that he's not screaming.

Darkness and Pain. He used to be scared of both things but now... Now he was more afraid of the monster he knew was stalking about outside that door. And to think, he had once laughed at his Uncle's caution when it came to the spy and called him pariniod. Fred susposed he owes the elder an anpoligy the next time they see each other... If they see each other again that is.

"I'm home."

He can't help but flinch at the deceptivly gentle tone as light drives away the darkness.

As a child, his father always debrated him for playing too rough and breaking his toys. As an adult, watching the teen curl into himself; The Spy is well aware the lesson never truly stuck. It wasn't that he had never heard Dylan it was just... Well, a broken toy was more interesting to pay with then a whole one. A broken toy you could either bend or shape into anything you wanted or it would bare its teeth and fight you every step of the way.

Elizabeth had been a whole toy; beautiful, intelligent, clever and witty. She could smile and dance, sing and garden. Yet she lacked resistance, independence, a free will of her own. She agreed to anything he said, did anything he asked. She was beautiful on the outside and perfect in society's standards but not in his. She was nothing more then a puppet, a doll that danced to the same tune over and over again. In the end, she shattered like porcelain under his fingers.

Red was a broken toy; jaded, scarred, angry, beautiful in his own right, intelligent, clever, witty, independent, free and full of resistance. He could smile- and when the younger did he lite up the room- yet he wouldn't. He could dance, sing, garden, cook and so much more. He was everything society stood against. When you tried to pull his strings the younger would cut them, he would not dance to their tunes. Even when the emerald eyed spy had tried to shape and bend the younger, the rouge had bared his teeth and showed his claws before vanishing.

He wonders how his new toy would break. Would he stubbornly resistant like his Uncle? Or would the elder be capable of molding him like he did so many others?

Sighing softly, the elder grabbed the chain from the floor yanking on it harshly causing to the young brown squirrel to be yanked forward by the collar around his pretty little neck.

"What have I told you about trying to hide from me?"

Honest, Nigel feels as though the younger is trying to outdo his uncle in the punishment category. The spy likes to think he had been lax so far but maybe if the Lad wished to be so much like his uncle he should share more then just the same room.

* * *

He likes to think himself a logical being.

He never acts without thought, he never allows his emontions to blind him.

He knows its a trap, he'd be a fool not to.

So why was he knowingly walking into it?

A scowl twits onto the man's face as his lone eye darts to the envelope all but crushed in his grip. The cursive emerald writing glints up at the rouge as though openly taughting him. He shouldn't of looked inside, Red knows that but when did he ever do what he was susposed to?

The continents only further to enrage him. He's angry with the American and himself.

He knows Rockgut means well by keep him restricted when the rouge wished nothing more then to go after the spy but God Damn It and Damn Him to Hell! How could he honestly expect the Russian to just sit there and twiddle his thumbs when that sick bastard had his nephew?!

Three weeks. Three!

He was tired of waiting, tired of being told to be patient. Tired of _'We don't know Nigel has him' _and_ 'You can't just march in there and make demands'_. Like hell he couldn't. He'd do much more then just march in there if he could only find a way of distracting the rouge eyed penguin long enough.

Still the American was stubborn as hell and persistent to prevent him from going on what the older had dubbed a _'suicide run'. _Red wouldn't tell the other but the more he tried to prevent him from going after his nephew and annihilating the spy the more the rouge wanted to.

As far as the rouge's concerned the letter's contents had been nothing short of an open invitation to war.

* * *

The moment he wakes, Buck Rockgut is instantly knows something is wrong.

The apartment is quite, too quite. He searches every room, in every closet and under every bed but the Russian is gone. Then he finds the crushed envelope in the doorway. The first thing he notices upon unfolding it is the elegant yet cursive emerald writing spelling out _Mr. Red._

_"He wouldn't."_

The American mumbles but even as he vocalizes it he knows _Red would_. No matter how human he looked now, Red was a squirrel; the Red Squirrel. Nothing was more important to squirrels then family and Fred was the last of Red's.

The envelope only contains a single photo that the American can only take one look at before rushing towards the sink to empty his stomach.

_Father Almighty. _


End file.
